


Pâte à Choux

by secretsidgenowriter



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Chef Sid, Fluff, M/M, Pastry Chef Geno, flirting with food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 02:12:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13424532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretsidgenowriter/pseuds/secretsidgenowriter
Summary: He never seems overwhelmed or rushed. He makes pies and cakes and flaky pastries all while carrying on a full conversation with whoever is closest to him.People love Geno.Meanwhile Sid is slowly being driven crazy by the smear of chocolate or flour that always finds its way to the hinge of his jaw by the end of the day. Or the way he smells like vanilla or butter when he squeezes in close to Sid to read reviews of the restaurant online.





	Pâte à Choux

Out of nowhere a thick piece of red velvet cake appears in front of his face and there’s a warm hand gripping his elbow.

Sid looks up from the pot on the stove and Geno raises his eyebrows.

“Didn’t eat dinner,” Geno explains. “You’ve been on your feet the whole day. Have to eat something.”

He tugs on Sid’s elbow and Sid digs his heels into the cushioned mat beneath his feet.

“Sid,” Geno says, voice full of authority that he doesn't have. "Gonna fall over, have to eat. You even eat breakfast this morning?”

“Yes.”

He had one poached egg that he couldn’t serve for brunch because the yolk broke while he was trying to plate it.

Geno shakes his head and slides his hand down to Sid’s wrist. “Come.”

“But it’s busy.”

“It’s a lull,” Geno throws over his shoulder and Sid finally moves, following Geno as he weaves them through the line of sous chef and dishwashers and waiters flitting around the kitchen.

It’s hardly a lull but the onions and mushrooms need to cook down. He has some time.

He sets the plate down on the counter just to the left of Geno’s workstation and Sid waits while he wrangles up a stool for him to sit on.

Geno pats it once before he turns towards the coffee machine and Sid sits and picks up the fork.

He didn’t realize how tired he actually was until he took the weight off his feet.

He digs the fork into the fork and lifts it to his mouth then closes his eyes and hums when his lips close around it.

The cake is moist and dense and the cream cheese frosting, Sid’s absolute favorite, is rich but not overly sweet.

Geno had cut him a generous portion but he could finish off the whole cake and not even feel bad about it.

Something this good cannot be overdone.

Geno was hired on the spot six months ago after he brought in a box of cookies with him on his interview with Mike and Mario.

Sid hadn’t been there but the following day Flower told him they had found someone to replace Annette.

Sid wasn’t sure that anyone could ever really replace her. She trained at _Le Cordon Bleu_ and on the rare occasion that her souffles fell she swore hard enough in french to make Tanger blush.

But then Sid took a bite of a dark chocolate chunk cookie and he almost forgot all about her.

“Oh my god,” he had said.

“I know,” Flower said with a nod. “Are you going to cry? I almost cried. And these are a day old. Can you imagine how good they were yesterday.”

Sid didn’t cry but his eyes might have watered just a little bit at the thought.

He takes another bite and carefully licks the frosting off the tines of the fork as Geno returns with a mug of coffee that he sets beside him.

“I shouldn’t have caffeine this late. It makes me jittery.”

“Caffeine free,” Geno says and pushes the mug closer to his fork free hand.

Sid wrinkles his nose. “Then what’s the point?”

Geno throws his head back and laughs. The joy of it cuts right through the clanking of dishes on the counters and the water running in the sinks.

“So picky,” he says around a full smile. “Will remember for next time.”

Sid doesn’t ask him what he means.

He just finishes his cake and watches the muscles in Geno’s forearms jump as he kneads dough to make cinnamon rolls for brunch tomorrow.

 

Next time is three days later when Geno lures him away from the stove with raspberry chocolate cups that are filled with a dark chocolate mousse that melts in his mouth.

He sighs happily as he bites into a second cup, the ripe raspberries bursting across his tongue.

“Good,” Geno asks as he hands him a mug of tea with the steam still curling off the surface. “Black tea,” he explains. “Goes best with chocolate.”

Sid takes a careful sip so he doesn’t burn his mouth as Geno pipes lemon buttercream filling onto bite sized macaroons.

Geno slid seamlessly into the hectic pace of the kitchen.

He never seems overwhelmed or rushed. He makes pies and cakes and flaky pastries all while carrying on a full conversation with whoever is closest to him.

People love Geno. 

Meanwhile Sid is slowly being driven crazy by the smear of chocolate or flour that always finds its way to the hinge of his jaw by the end of the day. Or the way he smells like vanilla or butter when he squeezes in close to Sid to read reviews of the restaurant online.

Sid watches him all the way across the kitchen as he sprinkles hazelnuts and chopped chocolate on puff pastry.

Geno’s leaning over the table and the pendant on his necklace swings in the air and then rests against the skin that’s exposed from the v-neck tee he’s wearing when he straightens up.

He rolls his shoulders and tips his head from side to side and Sid has a wild thought of walking over there and pressing his hands against his skin.

He could knead out the knots like Geno kneads dough.

Sid’s hands are scarred from years of nicks and burns that he’s earned in the kitchen but they’re strong and sure and he hopes they’d make Geno feel good.

Flower steps up beside him and presses two fingers beneath Sid’s chin and snaps his mouth shut.

Sid blushes and looks down at the candied walnuts he’s cooling on the baking sheet for the blackberry and goat cheese salad he’s making for tonight.

“Trying to catch flies, mon chum?”

“Shut up. Go prep the sweet potatoes.”

Flower laughs before he heads off to rewash his hands.

When Sid looks up again Geno catches his eye and tips his head towards the stool next to him.

Sid’s stomach growls on cue and he steps away from the walnuts.

They need more time to cool anyways.

There’s a slice of pecan pie with a scoop of bourbon vanilla bean ice cream on top. It’s starting to melt off the sides and pools onto the plate.

Sid hesitates and Geno’s eyes flick up to his.

“Something wrong?”

“It’s just….” Sid drums his fingers on the counter. “I don’t really like pecan pie. I’m sure yours is great,” he rushes out, “it’s really a universal thing.”

“You allergic?”

Sid shakes his head. “No. I’ve just never liked the taste.”

Geno rolls his eyes and wipes his hands on his apron. “Sit, sit,” he says as he picks up the fork and spears a piece of pie. He makes sure to get a bit of ice cream on it before he holds it in front of Sid’s mouth.

Sid opens his mouth and Geno slides the fork in. Sid’s eyes roll back in his head as he grabs the fork from him and digs in.

“You’re amazing,” he mumbles around a mouthful of pie and Geno gives him a pleased smile as he turns back to the puff pastry dough. “This is amazing.”

“Everything I make is amazing.”

Sid laughs but nods. “That’s true. Seriously, I could eat this for every meal. I practically am,” he realizes. “I should probably start working out or something. Having dessert for dinner every meal can’t be good.”

“Not good at cooking fancy foods. Sweets is all I can do.”

Sid looks down at his plate and starts to feel a little guilty. “You know you don’t have to do this, right? I can feed myself.”

“Don’t mind. You work so hard, take care of everything around here. Need someone to take care of you sometime.”

Sid swallows back a ball of emotion that’s worked it’s way right out of his chest. No one has taken care of him like that in a long time.

“I can cook the fancy foods,” he says slowly and Geno smiles.

“I know. It’s why they pay you big chef money.”

“I could make something for you sometime.”

“Eat your food all the time, Sid.” He puts the bowl of chopped hazelnuts down and rubs his stomach. “Gain some weight since I started working here.”

Sid stares at him. He doesn’t look like he’s being purposefully obtuse about this and Sid clears his throat.

“I meant maybe you could come over sometime and I could cook for you. Or I could go over your place if you’d rather. Just.” He stops and takes a deep breath. “Going out to a restaurant doesn’t really sound great when we spend all day in one.”

Geno leans both hands on the counter. “A date?"

Sid's face burns. "If you want it to be."

"I want it to be for six months, Sid."

They smile warmly at each other until something crashes to the floor and both their heads whip around. 

There's a plate and silverware on the floor and they both realize they're still in the middle of a busy kitchen with the dinnertime rush moving around them. 

"I should get back to it," Sid says as he jerks a thumb over his shoulder. "We'll talk more after our shifts, okay?"

Geno nods and picks up the crust that Sid has left on the plate. He breaks it in half and gives the bigger part to Sid. 

It's buttery and flaky and Sid hums happily. 

"See you after shift," Geno says and Sid smiles all the way back to his station. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is [ here](https://secret-sidgeno-writer.tumblr.com/)


End file.
